


The Distance Between You and Me

by LanadelBeyoncePuncher



Series: Arcane Reverberation [3]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Established Relationship, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 07:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8970733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanadelBeyoncePuncher/pseuds/LanadelBeyoncePuncher
Summary: Ekko is lonely without Ezreal. Ezreal is lonely without Ekko.





	

_You’re a million miles away, but all I can think of is you._

* * *

From atop the hillside, Ekko can see the sky shifting from its burning orange into deep indigo and dragging a blanket of glittering stars in a broad arc over Runeterra. He settles back on the grass and crosses his arms behind his head as his eyes map out the constellations Ezreal had shown him many months ago. Funny, Ekko could have sworn they were brighter when the Explorer was lying beside him, absently chattering about his adventures under the stars. A soft sigh slips past Ekko’s lips as he closes his eyes for a moment, wishing that if he opened them, he’d see a mop of blonde hair beside him. Slowly, Ekko cracks an eye open and glances to his right.

 

Of course, Ezreal isn't there.

 

Proverbs stated that distance made the heart grown fond, however, Ekko couldn't agree less. He knew Ezreal loved to travel. He knew Ezreal hated staying in one spot for too long. He _knew_ he could never provide the thrill of an uncharted ruin to an archaeologist who wanted to unearth every secret left in the world. But knowing didn't make Ekko’s heart hurt any less. Sometimes, Ekko wished he could pry that stupid gauntlet off Ezreal’s hand and crush it into a million pieces. Chain him down, lock him up, anything to keep Ezreal from saying goodbye and parting with a gentle kiss to Ekko’s cheek. The time traveler would never admit it, but watching Ezreal leave tore up his insides worse than any rotten meal.

 

Ekko sits up and curls his knees against his chest to watch the lights of Piltover flickering brightly in the distance. They proclaimed a better life, more success and happiness at the mere cost of your home your city, your friends, and your duty to do what was right. The time traveler would rather die than conform to Piltover’s standards. He loathed anyone from that city and anyone who left Zaun to become a gussied up goodie two shoes.

 

Not Ezreal, though. Ezreal wasn't Piltover, not like Caitlyn or Vi. He was the technology of Piltover, the innovativeness of Zaun, the justice of Demacia, the ancient wisdom of Shurima, and the balance of Ionia. Ezreal was a walking embodiment of Runeterra and Ekko had long since lost himself in the richness of the blonde’s world. It was so much brighter and filled with a love Ekko had never experienced before; like the waves of an ocean crashing over his head Ezreal’s tide had soon dragged him into the undertow and filled his lungs with a desperate need for the blonde explorer’s presence, which left Ekko empty and despondent without him at his side. Silently, the young man rises to his feet and gives the stars one last longing glance before beginning the long trek back to Zaun, followed only by the soft crunch of his own footsteps.

* * *

Ezreal can see the entire valley from his perch atop the twisting tree limbs of the tropical forest as the leaves are bathed in a bold cherry and gold glow. It’s stunning, as always, and as Ezreal pulls out a small notebook from his pack to write down his observations, a smile plays across his lips.

 

“Told you it was beautiful,” he says aloud.

 

Then, he stops. The words hit his ears with an empty, unanswerable ring and Ezreal’s heart thrums painfully tight against his rib cage. He hadn't meant to say anything at all. It’s just him out in this jungle, so why the hell was he acting like he was joking with—

 

Oh.

 

Right.

 

It was a promise made months ago, laughed at over a round of drinks and clumsy smiles, that Ezreal would find time to take Ekko to his favorite tropical exploit to watch the sun set. Such a silly little promise was soon crumpled up into nothing and tossed aside in the haste of the evening’s celebrations of another victory in Summoner’s Rift, but now Ezreal stands elbow-deep in the wastebin of words he’d made promises to. He loves his special explorations and the freedom of travel attributed to being alone. He loves being responsible for no one but himself and calculating risks only for his own hide. He _loves_ having secrets no one else could ever understand. Only...Ezreal loves Ekko as well.

 

This view didn't need to be a secret. It was a pretty treasure, but to have another person in Runeterra alongside Ezreal to witness its splendor, didn't rub him the wrong way. In fact, the explorer quite enjoys imagining Ekko leaning against the branches beside him, watching his profile become bathed in golden light, turning his hair from pale white to soft blond. Ezreal snaps out of his honeysuckle fantasy as his hand drops off the page and he realizes, vaguely, the observations of his current location have been reduced to loopy scrawls of Ekko’s name careening off the page. He folds the paper in half and nearly tears the page out from his observation notebook before folding the scrapped page into a small paper plane. Along the right wing, Ekko’s name is scrawled in clumsy, looping handwriting and Ezreal smiles fondly at the decorative font before gently pressing his lips to the paper plane.

 

" _Ojalá estuvieras aquí_ ,” he whispers softly as he sets the plane between the fingers of his gauntlet arm.

 

Sliding his hand back, Ezreal lines the plane up with the horizon line and tosses the paper plane forward, releasing a wave of energetic magic forward to propel it onward. Across the sky, soaring with graceful curves went Ezreal’s wish, until the amber sun swallowed the speck in its boundless rays. Turning away from the glorious sunset, he continues on with his trek through the endless maze of trees, as the aching pang of loneliness trotted along at the blonde’s heels, vanishing along with Ezreal into the noisy canopy.

**Author's Note:**

> The translation for Ezreal's Spanish dialogue is "Wish you were here", courtesy of Prodigal-Ezreal


End file.
